How Ironic, he thought
by karlie
Summary: Journey fic, angst, irony...My first fan fiction!


This is my first attempt at fanfiction.I am a little scared. Please let me know if it totally sucks or if I should continue. Thanks!  
  
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Tears burned the back of his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. He knew he had to  
  
get out of there; he wouldn't be able to hold it together much longer. He felt his stoic  
  
front began to crack, and knew that he had only seconds before it would shatter  
  
completely, leaving him naked and exposed. His throat felt tight, choked, swollen. He  
  
wondered briefly if he was dead- if he wasn't he wished he was. God, he would give  
  
anything if he was. But at the same time he knew he didn't deserve the release from the  
  
pain that death would give him. He looked at her broken body through the glass window  
  
of the ICU. He didn't deserve to live, but he wasn't allowed the peace of death. His tears  
  
slipped down his face silently, branding him as the guilty party. Guilt was not an emotion  
  
he had much experience with, and now it was making him sick to his stomach with hatred  
  
for himself. His shoulders began to shake involuntarily and he took that as his cue. He  
  
turned and his eyes searched wildly for the closest escape. The elevator. He made his  
  
way towards it he heard his name being called but ignored it. It wasn't her, it would  
  
never be her. As the doors of the elevator closed sobs began to wrack his body. He felt  
  
trapped, he had never been claustrophobic but now he felt like a caged animal. He  
  
backed up until he felt his back come in contact with the wall. He shrunk down, wanting  
  
to disappear. He put his face in his hands, scrubbing at it, then ran his hands through his  
  
hair. He had to get away, get out. But go where? He couldn't go home, not now, it was  
  
only home because of her, and now thanks to him she was- he choked down a wave of  
  
nausea. Shit, he couldn't get anywhere, his bike was wrecked. With that thought the  
  
elevator doors opened revealing him, Jason Morgan, sunken to the ground in the corner  
  
of the elevator like a frightened child. It was the ding that accompanied the opening door  
  
that snapped him out of it and he shot off the ground and took off through the doors, god  
  
help anyone that was in his path. When he finally reached the exit and pushed the doors  
  
open, the cool night air hit him in the face like a sheet of ice. He lurched forward and  
  
began to throw up, over and over, gagging until he though his body would collapse from  
  
exertion. He straightened up and swung around chaotically. His eyes were glazed over,  
  
iris's brilliantly blue in contrast to the red surrounding them, and tears ceaselessly made  
  
their way down the jagged contours of his face. He turned back to the door of the  
  
hospital and smashed his fist through the thick glass, startling everyone inside with the  
  
sound. Their fear was amplified by the look of him. No one had ever seen Jason Morgan  
  
loose control, not like this. He was almost unrecognizable. He glanced down in a haze  
  
and saw shards of glass sticking out of his arm, from his wrist to his elbow. He shook his  
  
head, trying to clear it, but was unsuccessful. He was lucky he couldn't feel pain because  
  
his arm was nearly destroyed. He stood there, frozen, oblivious to the commotion going  
  
on around him, and when Alan came out to him to bring him back inside, he unwittingly  
  
let himself be directed into one of the emergency surgery rooms. His eyes were less than  
  
cold and dead- that so many people claimed them to always be- they were empty- glazed  
  
over like a corpse. It seemed impossible that those eyes could be connected to a person  
  
that was still alive.well, technically anyway. He hadn't moved from the position Alan  
  
had placed him in when he had lead him into the room and sat him on the gurney, and  
  
didn't flinch or tense as the surgeon came in and began work on the destroyed flesh and  
  
muscle that had been Jason's right arm. The world went on around him but Jason was no  
  
longer part of it. Only a single thought ran through his mind. And that was of her, of  
  
Courtney, and how he had destroyed her. He hadn't known that evening when he asked  
  
he to go for a ride on his motorcycle that their ride would end in the emergency room.  
  
Hadn't known that it would end with her in the ICU. With her in a coma. That it would  
  
end with her facing the same kind of brain damage that he had been afflicted with 7 years  
  
before. He had loved her, and he had destroyed her like everyone had said that he would.  
  
He had just stolen her life away from her like AJ had done to him years before. How  
  
ironic, thought to himself. And with that final thought, he blinked the last tears out of his  
  
eyes, and then Jason Morgan disappeared into his mind, lost in his pain, leaving behind  
  
an empty body and a broken soul. 


End file.
